The Great Dane Napping
by AiredaleLady
Summary: Scooby falls in love w/a champion show dog and sires a litter, against the desire of the dog's owner. when the owner plots to destroy the puppies, its up to Scooby and the gang to save them and briing the owner to justice.
1. Divorce

THE GREAT DANE NAPPING  
Author's Note: Scooby-Doo and all related characters and elements are trademarks of their respective copyright holders. This is a not for profit, amateur work not intended to infringe upon the rights of the original copyright holders.   
  
This is my first attempt at writing a Scooby fan-fic w/an actual mystery plot. It is rated PG-13 for some graphic scenes of animal torture and some language. The saddest part is that the animal torture sequences were based on an actual case investigated by the ASPCA in New York. The owner in that case was eventually tried and convicted of animal cruelty.   
  
Chapter 1: Divorce  
Judge Anthony Gabler walked into the courtroom, settling behind the bench that he had occupied for the last sixteen years. Those years had been anything but routine, and Judge Gabler wondered how many others in the legal profession could say they had tried and convicted a vampire, a giant chicken monster and a hoard of other Halloween carnival rejects. Most of those cases ended in the same manner-with the defendant being dragged out of the courtroom in handcuffs and threatening revenge on "those damn meddling kids." **What can I say? The middle aged man thought to himself. They're good; a lawyer couldn't ask for a better, more composed set of witnesses.   
Judge Gabler broke from his daydream. "What's on the docket today, Joe?" he asked his foreman.   
"Wyndham versus Whitney," the foreman replied. "Another nasty divorce case; looks like there is a custody battle involved in this one."  
Anthony Gabler adjusted his bifocals. "Alert child protective services," he intoned, monotonously.  
"Uh, your honor, this is not about a child."  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"It's about a dog."  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Laura Whitney was not a born dog lover. She had gotten her first purebred dog at age eleven, and was immediately attracted to the glamorous world of dog shows, not for the sport, but for the prizes. While her childhood friends had been content with scouting merit badges, Laura would settle for nothing less than the giant silver cups and multi-colored rosette ribbons emblazoned with the kennel club's logo. And when she met Marc Wyndham ten years ago at the Harrisburg Kennel Club dog show, she knew she had found the ideal man to marry. Marc bred and showed Great Danes, and the instant Laura Whitney laid her eyes on the majestic animals, she knew that she would never want another tiny, yip-yap terrier again. A Great Dane would be the perfect trophy dog to show off to her friends, and no other dog could possibly suffice. And while Marc was actively involved in Great Dane rescue and breeding programs, Laura had little or no interest in bettering the breed or raising quality puppies; to her, a litter meant little more than a chance to charge potential owners hundreds of dollars for a champion dog's offspring. And when Laura had threatened to destroy an entire litter for lack of a show prospect puppy among them, Marc knew that he had had enough.   
As the heavy oak doors opened, Laura walked into the courtroom, tugging a six foot leather leash, attached to which was a large, golden-yellow Great Dane. "Come on, dog," she scoffed. "I haven't got all day."  
The dog resisted, with every inch and ounce of her thirty-inch, 120 pound frame. Laura shot her soon-to-be ex-husband a dirty look. "You can lend a hand here, you know," she called, sarcastically.   
Marc Wyndham stepped in front of the judge's bench. "Come on, Kala," he called, softly. "Here girl."  
The huge dog trotted over and sat obediently at the man's side, inciting another dirty look from the blonde woman.   
"Wyndham versus Whitney, will the attorneys please step forward and make your cases."  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Daphne Blake sat in a high-back chair in her living room, quietly nursing her three-month old daughter, Victoria. So much had changed in her life in the last year; ever since finding out that she was pregnant, she spent more time with Fred, and less time with the rest of the gang. And once the little girl had been born, she immediately became the center of Daphne and Fred's lives.   
Having finished her bottle, Victoria sighed contently, and settled into her mother's arms. As she rocked her daughter, Daphne glanced briefly at a photo on the end table and sighed. A significantly younger red haired girl and a tall, blond, sixteen-year old boy looked out from the frame; the two teens were flanked by a brown-haired girl with glasses and a lanky, mop haired boy. In front of the four humans sat a large, brown Great Dane with black spots on his coat. Daphne sighed nostalgically as she stared at the picture. **I miss those days, she thought, swallowing a lump in her throat and trying to keep from crying.   
Satisfied that her daughter was sleeping soundly, Daphne walked upstairs, placed the little girl in her crib, then headed back downstairs for the kitchen. She didn't even notice her husband, Fred Jones, standing by the counter as he always did. Settling down at the kitchen table, Daphne placed her head on her hands and sighed. Her long, red hair draped on the table surface, obscuring her face from view.   
The blond man approached the table and stood beside his wife. "Something wrong, Daph?" he asked, sympathetically.  
Daphne raised her head briefly, but didn't look at Fred. "No," she replied, shaking her head. "Nothing."   
The simplicity of her response belied the emotions she felt inside, and the blond man could detect that emotional supression in her tone of voice. Pulling up a chair, he sat down at the table and placed his arm around Daphne's shoulder. He leaned toward her, as if attempting to put his face underneath the curtain of red hair that hid her face. "No, really, I know something's bothering you; now why don't you tell me what it is?"  
The red-haired woman sighed. Once again, her husband's power of persuasion had prevailed. "Oh, I don't know," she began. "I guess I just feel a little bogged down, that's all. Ever since Victoria was born, my life has been nothing but sleepless nights, baby formula and constant worry about whether or not I am a good parent." She lifted her head, this time making eye contact with the blond man. "We haven't spoken to Velma or Shaggy since before Victoria was born..." Daphne's voice trailed off, then she resumed with a sigh, "I guess I'm just lonely, that's all."   
"Daphne, how can you possibly be lonely? You have me, we have Victoria...we're a family. What more could you ask for?"  
"A chance to see our friends again would be nice."  
Fred shook his head, silently, then walked off, leaving Daphne alone with her thoughts. He understood her feelings, but felt that he was powerless to do anything about them.   
A sudden wave of reason swept through Fred's mind. No, he thought. He could do something. Running upstairs to his study, he picked up the phone and depressed the auto dial button.   
* * * * * * * * *  
"Do the plaintiffs wish to make any final comments?"  
"What about the dog?" asked Laura.   
"The dog shall remain the property of Mr. Marc Wyndham until further notice."  
Laura was not satisfied with the judge's response. "Hey, wait a minute," she snapped. "I co-signed that registration form, that dog legally belongs to me as well!"   
"It is the court's decision that the dog remain with Mr. Wyndham until further notice, and that is final."   
Laura's face grew red with anger. "I'm her handler, dammit!" she screamed. "She's   
a champion show dog. That stupid animal would be nothing without me!!"   
Judge Gabler groaned. Right now he would have preferred a diatribe about meddling kids to this woman's tirade about her dog. "Order in my court!" he bellowed, banging his gavel. "We will re-examine this case one year from now; but for the time being, the dog will remain with Mr. Marc Wyndham." He banged his gavel on the desk, signifying the end of the case.   
Joe dragged the screaming woman away. "Just you wait, mister," she yelled at her husband. "I'll see to it that you never see that dog again!!"   
Judge Gabler sighed. **Those petty criminals who dress like Halloween carnival rejects are calmer than this, he thought to himself.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Moments later, Fred Jones returned to the kitchen where Daphne still sat with her head on the table. The blond man cleared his throat in a subtle suggestion. "You know, it is awfully nice out, today," he began. "Why don't we take Victoria for a walk in the park?"  
Daphne hesitated.   
"Come on, Daph, it'll do you some good to get out, you can't just sit in the house all day and mope."  
The redhaired woman lifted her head and made eye contact with her husband. "If you don't mind, Frederick, I'll decide what's good for me." With a sigh, she returned to her previous position.   
Fred tugged on his neckerchief, as he readied his second approach. "Come on, Daphne," he began. "you'd get a chance to show off your daughter.."  
Daphne pondered this last comment as Fred readied his next one.   
"...and you always love getting compliments on her, don't you? You can't do that if you're sitting in the house all day."  
Daphne sighed, shaking her head in disgust. Once again, her husband's dictatorial persuasion had won out again. "Fine," she said, somewhat curtly. "go get her ready. I'll meet you outside, but don't expect me to enjoy myself."  
**Oh, I'm pretty sure you will enjoy yourself once you find out what is waiting, Fred thought, confident in the success of his own plan. 


	2. The Gang Reunited

Chapter 2: The Gang, Reunited  
  
Daphne gently pushed the stroller through the park, walking the path that   
she had walked so many times in her childhood. Nostalgically, she recalled the   
times that she and Velma would walk to the park without the boys, then spend the   
entire afternoon talking about them. **Yeah, she thought to herself. **Those   
were the days. Now, here I am, Mrs. Daphne Blake-Jones, walking this same   
path with my infant daughter accompanied by the same man who was so   
frequently the topic of our discussions. A thin smile played across her face as she   
imagined what Velma would think of the scene.   
A sudden, violent force on the stroller's handle woke the redhead from her   
thoughts.   
"Let's go another way this time," Fred said, directly.   
Daphne glanced inquisitively at her husband. "Why?"   
The blond man shrugged. "Because I feel like it, that's why."  
Daphne shot her husband a suspicious glare. "There you go," she chided,   
"acting like a dictator again."  
"Just trust me, alright?"  
The red headed woman shook her head in disgust. "Freddy, for once, why   
don't you let me make my own decisions. Do you have to tell me what to do   
every time?"  
The blond man said nothing, seeming to accept his wife's comment.   
Then, abruptly, he grabbed the stroller from Daphne's hands and began pushing it   
in the direction that he wanted to go.   
"Hey!" Daphne screeched, both in horror and shock, "what do you think   
you are you doing?"   
The blond man shook his head and grinned, all the while, continuing to   
walk towards a large fountain in the center of the park, Daphne following closely   
on his heels.   
"Just trust me, okay?"   
Moments later, Daphne caught up with her husband and daughter.   
Panting, she glared at the blond man. "Are you crazy?" she scolded, in between   
breaths. "What did you think you were doing? I think you owe me an…" Her   
stern tone of voice suddenly subsided, softening, as her previously harsh words   
melted into a startled gasp. "Oh, my G…," she breathed, putting her hands over   
her mouth in shock.  
The blond man smiled at his wife, surrounded by his childhood friends   
and a large Great Dane. "You see, I told you it would be good for you to get out."   
* * * * * * * * *   
On the other side of the park, Marc Wyndham calmly walked the giant   
Great Dane. "'Atta girl, Kala," he praised. "Now don't you like this better than   
that stuffy kennel at Laura's place? You can be a real dog with me, not just some   
fancy lawn ornament like you are with her."  
The giant dog cooed in response.   
The pair stopped in front of the snack bar. "Two ice creams," he began.   
"mint for me and vanilla on a cone for her."  
"NOT ON YOUR LIFE, MISTER!!"   
The dark haired man turned around abruptly and found himself face-to-  
face with his ex-wife. "Laura," he stuttered, in surprise. "What are you doing   
here?"   
The blonde woman sneered at her ex-husband. "That dog is a valuable   
commodity; don't you DARE corrupt her…"  
Marc sighed. " 'A valuable commodity'? You talk about her as if she's a   
piece of property."  
"She is, and she's my property. I co-signed that registration form, and that   
dog belongs just as much to me as she does to you. I think I have the right to say   
that I want her!" Laura took a drag on her cigarette. "Am I not being reasonable,   
dear?"  
Mark Wyndham looked his ex-wife squarely in the eyes. "No, you're not.   
You never really liked Kala anyway; why do you suddenly want her? She was   
never anything more to you than an object to show off in those stupid canine   
beauty pageants. I treated her the way she should have been treated, first as a pet,   
then as a show dog."  
"Pet, my ass! That animal is a champion show dog of champion lineage,   
worth, might I add, over $100,000. I mean, do you know who this dog is?" She   
began enumerating the dog's accomplishments. "Top honors at the mid-western   
regional Great Dane specialty show, sixteen blue ribbons, this year's AKC's 'Top   
Dog,' and a two time national champion!" Her voice peaked in volume as she   
named the final accomplishment, unaware that she could be heard all the way   
across the park.   
The blonde woman continued her tirade. "And for your information,   
'Kala, 'as you call her is the most sought after female Great Dane in the country;   
people are paying me to mate their dogs to her.' Laura waved a piece of paper in   
front of her husband's face. "I've got $5000 riding on this dog and her hormones.   
She'll be shipped cross-country next week to mate with a stud dog out in   
Nevada."  
Marc Wyndham shook his head in disgust. "That's nice, Laura, but you   
still haven't told me why you want her. What could you give her that I couldn't?"   
Laura Wyndham took another drag on her cigarette. "Me? Well, I know   
her potential as a show dog, and I would allow her to reach that potential. If you   
get her, she'd be nothing more than a fancy foot warmer." The blonde woman   
paused, then blew a cloud of smoke in her ex-husband's face. Marc Wyndham   
coughed in disgust, fanning the air with both hands, and inadvertently dropped the   
leash in the process. Feeling the sudden slack on her leash, the giant dog took   
advantage of her newly found freedom, running swiftly away from the bickering   
couple who never even noticed her departure. 


	3. Confrontation

CHAPTER 3: Confrontation   
Daphne sat at the edge of the fountain, facing Velma and Shaggy. "Boy,   
it's great to see you guys again. You can't possibly know how much I've missed   
you."  
Velma grinned. "Oh, we know, because we felt it too, but we didn't want   
to bother you." The bespectacled girl leaned over the stroller and looked at the   
baby. "And who, might I ask, is this?" she asked, putting her hand under the   
infant's chin.  
Daphne giggled. "This is Victoria," she announced, proudly, lifting her   
daughter out of the stroller and showing her off to her best friend.   
Scooby lay contently at his owner's feet, preferring to ignore the fuss   
going on around him. Suddenly, his nose began to twitch. He sensed something   
in the air, the scent of which spoke to an instinct deep inside of him. This same   
instinctive voice seemed to urge, go to her. She is waiting. As if drawn by a   
trance, Scooby obeyed the voice, slowly getting up and walking in the direction of   
the scent. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up. In front of him stood a majestic   
creature, the epitome of canine and Great Dane beauty. Scooby stared at the   
beautiful creature, transfixed by her presence. The same voice that he had heard   
only seconds earlier spoke to him once again, this time even more strongly than   
before. Go, it urged, and he did.   
The instinctive drive was broken by a more familiar, less distant sounding   
call. "Hey, Scooby-Doo." Shaggy came running over, accompanied by Velma,   
and found his dog and found him nose-to-nose with the fawn colored female.   
"Well," he commented. "Like, what have we here?"   
Velma surveyed the newcomer. "I know that dog," she announced.   
"That's Champion Race the Wind's Kahlua Cream. She was named 'best in   
show' at Westminster last year."  
Shaggy looked at Velma doubtfully. "Like, some guy entered a drink in a   
dog show?"Velma chuckled. "No, silly. 'Kahlua Cream' is the name of the   
dog. She's the offspring of Bob Miller's champion Great Dane. Remember   
Bob?? He's the one who gave us the break in that dog napping case."   
The skinny man nodded. "Yeah, I remember now, but like, what does she   
want with Scooby? "   
Daphne chuckled as she walked over and surveyed the scene. "I think it's   
more like what does Scooby want with her. " She pointed to the two animals.   
"Look at them."   
The two, giant dogs walked in circles around each other, stopping   
occasionally to nose nudge.   
"Y'hungry, girl?" Shaggy asked, holding out a Scooby snack which the   
female Dane promptly devoured. Her tailed swished rapidly from side to side as   
she nudged the skinny man's arm, hoping for another morsel.   
Before he could react, though, Laura Whitney stormed onto the scene,   
glaring angrily at the female dog. "There you are, you stupid animal!" she yelled,   
sternly, grabbing the leash and pulling forcefully. "I'll teach you to run off!" she   
yelled, taking the loose end of the leash and holding it overhead like a whip.   
The female dog cowered in fright.  
Seconds later, Marc Wyndham caught up with his ex-wife. "Be gentle!"   
he scolded. "Don't hurt the poor thing."  
Laura shot him a dirty look. "Stay out of this you imbecile," she fumed.   
"This is my dog, now!" She turned towards Shaggy, Daphne and Velma, glaring   
at them. "You kids keep that mutt away from my dog! Do you have any idea   
who this dog is?"   
Hearing the commotion, Fred hastily rushed over, nearly tripping over his   
daughter's stroller. "I'm sorry, madame," he spoke, looking apologetically at   
Laura Whitney. "I assure you, it won't happen again." As if to emphasize his   
point, the blond man gripped Scooby's collar and tugged, firmly.   
The chocolate colored Great Dane resisted, refusing to be pulled back.   
"Come on, Scoob," said Shaggy, adding his grip to Fred's. "Like, that's   
enough for one day."   
Still, the dog refused to move.   
Laura Whitney shot the two men a dirty look. "See to that," she sneered,   
as she dragged her dog away. "Ignorant kids," she mumbled, as she stormed off.   
"They don't know a million-dollar show dog when they see one."   
Scooby slowly followed Fred, Daphne Shaggy and Velma back to the   
fountain; he dropped forlornly at their feet and sighed. His gaze followed the   
other dog as she was dragged away by her ornery owner. Scooby let out an   
uncharacteristic whine before settling back down at his master's feet.   
"Scooby Doo, what's with you?" asked Shaggy.  
The Great Dane lifted his head and looked at his owner. "Ri think r'im in   
ruv," he answered.  
Velma rolled her eyes. "Oh brother," she said out loud.   
Shaggy looked at Fred and Daphne, sitting together and holding hands.   
"Like, it looks as if you two started a trend," he chuckled. "Even Scooby's caught   
it!"   
Daphne shot Shaggy a dirty look, elbowing him in the ribs. The look   
spoke for itself. Zip it.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
"I don't want to argue anymore, Marc. Just give me my dog, I'll leave and   
you can forget that you ever knew me. That's all there is to this."  
Marc Wyndham shook his head. "No way. Not after how you treated her,   
and in front of those people, too. If you're going to treat her like that, well, you   
shouldn't have a dog, and that's that."  
Laura's eyes grew bloodshot with rage. "She's gonna be bred in two   
weeks. She stays with me until then." Laura Whitney snatched the leash from   
Marc's hand, turned and stormed away from her ex-husband. The giant dog   
whined in protest. "We're not through yet," Laura growled, as she jerked sharply   
on the leash and walked away.   
Marc Wyndham watched helplessly as his ex-wife disappeared with the   
dog. He felt as if a part of his life had been taken away from him. "Don't worry,   
Kala," he whispered under his breath. "I'll get you back…somehow."   
* * * * * * * * * *   
"Boy, like am I glad that that's over." Shaggy looked at the others.   
"What was she so mad about, anyway?"  
"Dog show people can be that way," replied Velma. "They don't want   
anybody corrupting their prize winning animal. Of course, that woman's   
behavior was a little extreme."  
"Extreme," replied Daphne, exasperated. "Someone ought to teach that   
woman how to manage her anger, not to mention, how to treat an animal."   
Velma nodded. "Yes, I agree. But I wonder what that dog was doing off-  
leash like that in the first place. Most show dog owners would never let their   
prize winning animal appear in public, yet alone off the leash."  
Daphne shook her head and shrugged. "Well, if I were that dog, and I   
belonged to a woman like that, I would want to get out at any chance I could get!"  
Fred nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that poor dog." He pointed towards   
Scooby. "Speaking of poor dogs…"   
The Great Dane was lying in the grass plucking flowers with his teeth then   
dismembering them with his paws. "Rhe ruve me, rhe ruve me rot."   
Shaggy looked at his dog. "Like, she's out of your league, buddy, so just   
let it go."  
Fred continued. "Anyway, I don't think there is anything we can do, so   
we might as well forget about it." He glanced at his watch. "Come on, gang, let's   
go home. It's getting late."  
Daphne looked at her husband, then at the others. "Not before you all   
promise me one thing: that we are going to see each other again and a lot more   
frequently than we currently do."  
Fred, Velma and Shaggy looked at the red-headed woman. "You got a   
deal, Daph," Velma replied, speaking collectively. 


	4. Freedom at Midday

CHAPTER 4: Freedom at Midday  
Even in the presence of his humans, the huge dog just wasn't acting right.   
For the next three days, he lay at Shaggy's feet, brooding, and none of the humans   
could quite figure out the reason for this odd behavior. It was as though Scooby   
was haunted by the memory of the beautiful dog he had seen at the park, and he   
could think of nothing else. The dog heaved a huge sigh, but otherwise, didn't   
move.   
"Come one, Scoob," the skinny man prodded. "like, cheer up." He offered   
the dog a bite of his sandwich; the Great Dane refused.   
"Ruh ruh. Rot r'hungry."  
"Not hungry?" the four humans replied in chorus, somewhat alarmed.   
"You all right, Scoob?" Fred asked, concerned.  
"R'I'm okay," Scooby replied, followed by another huge sigh.  
Daphne bent over and petted the dog on the head; she knew exactly what   
was wrong, and how to remedy it. "You're lovesick, aren't you, Scooby?" she   
asked, sympathetically.  
"Reah," the dog replied. "Ruvsick."   
Daphne smiled, compassionately. "Well, I can't say we haven't all been   
there at some point in our lives--I know I have--but don't worry, you'll get over   
it."  
"Rink so?"  
The redhead nodded and smiled  
Hearing her reassuring words, Scooby settled back at the humans' feet, but   
he was far from sedate. That primal voice that he had heard at the park was   
speaking to him once again. Go, it urged. Go to her. She needs you. The call of   
the unseen voice was so strong that Scooby seemed powerless to resist it. Like   
Buck following the wolf's call, he got up from his position at Shaggy's feet and   
proceeded out the door.   
No one even noticed as Scooby sneaked out of the house, then the front   
yard and began to walk freely. Following his nose, he walked until he picked up   
the scent of the other dog. He followed the trail until he arrived at a large house   
with a fenced in yard. He could hear yapping and barking coming from   
somewhere on the premesis; and the sound, combined with the scent, told him   
that he was in the right place. Scooby walked across the front yard, then around   
to the side, where he found a large kennel area. He paced back and forth with his   
nose to the ground until he found what he was looking for. He sat down in front   
of the enclosure. "Rala?" he called. "Rala, ris that you?"  
The fawn colored female walked to the front of her kennel, whining softly.   
She stuck her muzzle through the chain link kennel fence and met Scooby nose-  
to-nose.   
"Rala!" he spoke, his tail wagging fiercely. "Rit's reat to ree you!"   
The other dog whined softly, pawing at the locked door, as if to indicate   
that she was confined and could not leave.   
Scooby grinned; padlocks were nothing new to him, and he set to work   
picking the lock with his claw.   
* * * * * * * * * *   
Laura Whitney took a drag on her cigarette as she spoke on the phone.   
"Yes, the arrangements have already been made," she spoke, coldly. "Kala will   
be shipped out to Reno on the first flight Monday morning…yes, of COURSE   
she's in heat you moron; that's why we're having this conversation! Just make   
sure that your dog is receptive and that the mating goes as planned. As soon as   
she has been successfully mated, you can ship her back here…with a check for   
$5,000, of course."   
The man on the other end of the line hesitated for a moment. "You know,   
Ms. Whitney, it's usually the stud dog's owner who charges the fee, not the owner   
of the bitch."   
"I know that you fool! But seeing that my dog is the number one Great   
Dane in the country, and the most sought after female, I think we can make an   
exception." She paused. "Of course, if you do not want your dog to mate with   
Kala, I have a list of at least ten potential stud dogs in addition to yours, so if you   
do not want to pay the fee…"  
The sound of at least a dozen yapping dogs drifted through the window,   
eventually reaching the woman's ear. "Hold on a minute," she said, covering the   
mouthpiece of the receiver with her hand. . "Something's riling the dogs. I want   
to go check it out."  
Laura Whitney hurled the sliding glass doors aside and yelled through the   
screen door, "Shut up you stupid dogs!" On a hunch, she glanced towards   
Kala's enclosure, noticing the shadowy figure of another dog standing in front of   
it. She squinted. The brown dog looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place   
where she had seen him.   
Finally, the padlock on the kennel gate gave way, and with a swipe of his   
paw, Scooby knocked it off of the door, allowing the gate to swing open freely.   
The fawn colored female wasted no time in escaping from her prison; she   
sidled up to Scooby, and nuzzled him, muzzle to muzzle.   
The barking and yapping continued to escalate. "What the hell's going on   
out there?" Laura yelled, hurling the screen door open and making a bee line for   
Kala's enclosure.   
Upon hearing the irate voice, Scooby took his cue. "Ret's ro!"   
The blonde woman arrived at the kennel just in time to see the two dogs   
running off together. "Oh shit!!" she mumbled under her breath, slamming the   
open kennel door behind her in disgust. "I'll call you back," she snapped into the   
phone. I've got a slight problem to deal with."   
* * * * * * * * * * * * *   
Kala wasted no time in taking advantage of her newly found freedom. She   
and Scooby headed straight for the park, prancing and sparring, stretching their   
long legs as they ran.   
As he ran alongside Kala, Scooby could feel a long lost instinct welling up   
inside of him, one that had been supressed with time, but one that he knew   
existed. He had seen it in others—in his own species and in the four humans who   
surrounded him--but he had never felt it himself, until now. This primal feeling   
that harkened back to his wild ancestors was telling him to do something,   
something neither he, nor any of his human friends could ever imagine him to do.   
He led Kala to a small, secluded area, out of sight of any humans, and lay   
down beside her. Once again, he felt that strange, primal feeling, and could sense   
that the other dog was feeling it too.   
Once again, the voice spoke to him from deep inside of his heart. It is   
time. Go to her, she is yours.  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Mark Wyndham knocked angrily on his ex-wife's door. "Where the hell   
is my dog?" he demanded.   
"You think I know?" Laura replied, curtly. "She got out the other day and   
ran off with some stupid mutt. I haven't seen her since."  
The dark haired man shook his head in disgust. "Laura, that is so   
irresponsible of you. How could you let a 'two time national champion,' as you   
call her, escape?"  
"I didn't. I came out here, and the dogs were gone. That's it; what more   
can I say?"  
Marc Wyndham stormed away from his ex-wife in disgust. "Well, when the   
police arrive to question you about possession of my stolen property, you had   
better have a better explanation than the one you just gave me." 


	5. Mystery Inc. Takes the Case

Shaggy burst through the front door of Daphne's house, barreling into the   
living room in a panic.   
"Good gracious, Shaggy," exclaimed Daphne. "What's wrong? You're   
acting as if something dead is after you!" The redhead chuckled at her comment.   
Shaggy…running to the rest of the gang in a panic? Now there was something   
they didn't see everyday, she thought to herself.   
"Like, has anyone seen Scooby?" he panted. "I can't find him   
anywhere."  
Velma looked up from her book. "He's probably just out wandering   
around the neighborhood," she said, calmly. "He'll be back."   
The brown haired man shrugged. "I dunno. Like, it's not like him to be   
gone for this long. I'm going out to look for him," said Shaggy, heading for the   
front door, opening it and nearly colliding with a brown-haired man standing on   
the front step. "ZOINKS!!!"   
"I'm sorry, sir," said Marc Wyndham. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are   
you with Mystery Inc.?"  
Shaggy nodded.  
"I hope you can help me. I need to find my dog."   
**Yeah, like, that makes two of us, thought Shaggy. "Come on in," he   
said, gesturing to the living area.   
"This is a picture of my dog," he said, taking a piece of paper out of his   
wallet and showing it to the gang. "She's a purebred Great Dane and a national   
champion show dog. My wife calls her 'Champion Race the Wind's Kaluha   
Cream,' but I just call her 'Kala.'"   
Daphne looked carefully at the picture. "I remember you from the park   
the other day," she commented. "You mean that beautiful animal is your dog?"   
Marc nodded, and Velma suddenly made the connection. "Then, that   
blonde woman is…"   
"My ex-wife," interjected Marc, cutting Velma off mid sentence. "Or my   
soon to be ex-wife. She and I are in the middle of a nasty divorce, and she's using   
Kala as a negotiating pawn." He paused, then continued his explanation. "She   
and I are co-owners of the dog. And even though the judge said that I could   
legally retain ownership of Kala, Laura thinks that she can give the dog a better   
life than I could."  
"Why is that?" asked Fred, curiously.  
"Because she thinks that the best life for a dog consists of travelling from   
show to show, winning ribbons and getting a picture in the local paper," replied   
Marc. "She's not in it for the dogs, she's in it for the publicity and the money.   
That day at the park, Laura confronted me and decided to take Kala back for   
herself. She claimed it was because she had a deal set up with a breeder in   
Nevada, but apparently, that deal fell through when Kala unexpectedly   
disappeared the other day." The desperation in Marc's voice grew more and more   
recognizable. "We have to find that dog, and fast. She shouldn't be running   
loose right now; she is currently in heat, and we have got to find her before   
anything happens."   
Fred pondered the man's comment, wondering if there wasn't some sort of   
connection between the missing dog and Scooby's odd behavior over the past few   
days. "If Kala is in heat," he began, tentatively, "and Scooby is out wandering,   
then I have a hunch that your dog and our dog are probably together. Find Kala,   
and we will most likely find Scooby too." Fred turned and faced Velma, Shaggy   
and Daphne. "We've got work to do, so, let's split up, gang. Velma, you and   
Shaggy go with Marc and try to find the two dogs; Daphne and I will…"  
Daphne stared at the blond man, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Uh,   
Freddy, aren't you forgetting something?"  
The blond man shrugged.   
"I can't just get up and leave," Daphne objected, gesturing to Victoria. "I   
have a responsibility here…and so do you."  
Velma turned and faced the blond man. "Daphne's right," she said. "You   
should stay home…at least for now. Shag and I can handle this part of the case   
by ourselves."  
Fred's shoulders dropped in defeat. He was disappointed that he couldn't   
accompany the gang on this case, but also resolute in his responsibility as a father.   
"Okay," he replied, hesitantly. "I'll stay here; but if you guys need any help, give   
us a call."  
Velma smiled back at him in reply. "Now, Mister Wyndham," she began.   
"Can you tell us where and when you last saw your dog?"   
* * * * * * * * *   
"Scooby-Doo, where are you?"  
"Kala, here girl." Both men whistled and called in different directions.   
After three fruitless hours of wandering the neighborhood, Shaggy   
reluctantly shook his head. "Like, you know, there is no sign of them anywhere,"   
he said, the disappointment and slight anguish detectable in his voice.   
Marc Wyndham sighed, equally disappointed and equally concerned for   
the welfare of his dog. "Well, I guess there isn't anything that we can do now,"   
he said, as he climbed back in to the Mystery Machine. "Thanks for your help,   
though."   
Velma was hesitant to accept defeat, and mentally tortured herself about   
whether or not she had missed a possible clue. "We'll keep our eyes open for   
anything," she mentioned, as the van pulled up in front of the apartment complex.   
"This case concerns us just as much as it does you; I'm only sorry that we   
couldn't have been of more help."   
As Marc unlocked the door to his apartment, he was greeted unexpectedly   
by two large Great Danes. The two dogs wagged their tails in unison, as they   
attempted to swueeze through the door and greet their respective owners.   
"Scooby!" Velma and Shaggy cried, in unison.   
"Kala. Oh, thank goodness you're alright."   
The two dogs leaned forward to lick their respective owners, and   
somehow, Marc managed to separate them long enough to squeeze back into his   
apartment. "How did you guys get in there?" asked Velma, fending off Scooby's   
long, pink tongue.   
"Ricked the rock rith my raw," answered Scooby.   
"He picked the lock with his claw," translated Shaggy. "Oh, brother."   
* * * * * * * * * *  
"…so we found her," Velma reported to Fred and Daphne. "And, just as you   
figured, Scooby was with her."  
Daphne sighed in relief. "It's great to have you back, Scooby," she said,   
scratching the dog behind his ears. "I can't imagine what we would have done   
without you."   
Fred seconded his wife's opinion. "Let's just hope that's the end of the   
animal custody cases for awhile," he added.   
Shaggy, Velma and Daphne nodded in agreement, but neither the dog nor the   
humans could possibly foresee the strange and unexpected twist the case would   
soon take. 


	6. Three Months Later

CHAPTER 6: Three Months Later  
"Happy birthday, Victoria," Daphne cooed, sweetly.   
"Six months old," added Velma, "you're a big girl now." She tickled the   
baby under her chin, eliciting a gleeful squeal from the infant.   
"Heavy, too," grunted Fred, as he lifted his daughter out of her high chair   
and placed her into the stroller   
"I hope this outing will be a little less eventful than our last one," said   
Daphne, recalling their initial encounter with Marc Wyndham, his champion dog   
and his ex-wife.   
"I agree," echoed Velma. "Petty criminals in masks, we can handle, but   
certainly not a vengeful ex-spouse. Thank goodness that that case resolved itself   
before getting any worse." Daphne and Fred nodded in agreement.   
"Like, I suppose we could say that Scooby had more fun on this case than   
on any of our others," said Shaggy. "Except maybe that one at the Scooby Snack   
factory." He paused for a moment. "Come to think of it, I think that was one of   
my favorite cases as well!" The others looked at the skinny man, then burst out   
laughing.   
* * * * * * * * * *  
**Go…go…she needs you now.   
Try as he could, Scooby could not ignore that primal voice from within.   
**I can't, my humans need me.  
**They will understand, especially Fred and Daphne. You must go. She   
needs you.   
The call was too strong resist, and Scooby knew he had to answer it. He   
cautiously crawled away, making sure that his human friends did not notice his   
departure. Once he was far enough away, he stood up and began to run, his long,   
powerful stride guiding him to his destiny.   
"Scooby?" The skinny man looked around him, a look of panic on his   
bearded face. "Scooby? Scooby-Doo, where are you?" he called. Turning his   
head, he saw the unmistakable form of large dog, running down the sidewalk, its   
tail streaming behind it. He recognized it as the unmistakable silhouette of a   
Great Dane. **Oh no, he thought to himself. **Like, not again! "Scooby!" he   
yelled, his voice filled with panic. "Come back here!"   
He looked desperately at Fred, Velma and Daphne. "Like, we gotta go,   
now! Scoob's disappeared again, and we have to follow him!" The skinny man   
promptly took off after his dog.   
"We'll catch up to you in a minute," yelled Fred, placing his daughter into   
her stroller. "Come on gang," he ordered. "Follow Shaggy."   
The blond man took off in pursuit of his friend, but his gait was awkward and   
unsteady, since he was pushing a stroller. Victoria giggled, enjoying the ride.   
When Fred, Velma and Daphne finally caught up with Shaggy, he was   
standing in front of a large apartment complex. Velma surveyed the environs.   
**This place looks oddly familiar, she thought to herself. **But I can't recall   
where I have seen it before.   
Shaggy approached the main door and prepared to enter. "Can I help you   
kids?" a deep voice interjected. The skinny man jumped back in fright.   
"Excuse me, sir," panted Fred. "But did you happen to see a large, brown   
dog with black spots run past here?"  
The burly superintendent nodded. "As a matter of fact, I did. He walked   
in through the doors as if he was going to take the elevator up, then did a double   
take, headed back outside and went around the back, to the fire escape."   
Shaggy chuckled at the man's account. "That's our dog," he answered, as   
he and the others headed back out the door, preparing to scale the fire escape.   
"It might be easier to take the elevator," suggested the burly man.   
"There's only one guy in this building who owns a dog, and he lives on the fifth   
floor."   
Fred rang the doorbell, and was surprised when a familiar looking man   
answered.   
"Kids," said Marc Wyndham. "I had a feeling you would be stopping by.   
Come on in."   
Shaggy stopped in his tracks shortly after entering the apartment.   
"Zoinks!" he announced.   
Daphne echoed the skinny man's sentiment, putting her hand over her   
mouth, as she stepped back in complete disbelief of what she saw. "Oh…my…"   
* * * * * * * * * *  
The large, fawn colored female lay on her side, nursing a litter of four   
puppies. Scooby sat beside her, wagging his tail and looking at his human   
companions.   
Sensing the approach of a stranger into the nesting area, Kala raised her   
head and whined softly. "Rit's rokay," Scooby grunted to his mate, before getting   
to his feet and approaching the gang.   
"Ooh, Scooby," cooed Daphne, patting him gently on his head. "So that's   
why you've been disappearing--you wanted to see her." Daphne looked at the   
female Dane. "Congratulations, Kala," she added. "You have such a beautiful   
family."   
Velma leaned forward, just far enough to see the tiny animals. "They   
can't be more than four weeks old," she surmised. "Oh, but they are so adorable."   
She shifted her gaze to Scooby. "Congratulations, there, Scooby," said the   
bespectacled girl.   
As she reached down to pet one of the puppies, her serene thoughts were   
interrupted by a violent banging on the door. Startled, she drew back. Victoria   
screamed; Scooby barked, protectively.   
The banging intensified, as if someone was trying to forcefully enter the   
apartment.   
"Quick, gang," whispered Fred. "Duck out of sight!"   
Scooby refused to move from his mate's side.   
"You too!" the blond man commanded, grabbing the Great Dane by the   
collar and ducking behind a couch.   
Laura Whitney banged fervently on the door to Marc's apartment. "Open   
the door, dammit!" she screamed, angrily. "Open this door, NOW!!"  
Marc Wyndham opened the door just wide enough to stick his head out.   
"Calm down, Laura," he scolded. "What the hell's gotten into you?"  
"Where's my dog!" she yelled, vehemently.  
"She's not your dog," the dark haired man countered. "And I have no idea   
where she is!"  
"The hell you don't," Laura screamed. "You have her and I k now you   
do—I could hear the barking." She leaned forward, trying to force her way into   
the apartment; Marc stood his ground, firmly.   
"Even if I had her," he continued, "I wouldn't let you take her. The judge   
said that Kala was to stay with me."   
Laura Whitney's eyes grew red with rage. "The hell with what the judge   
said, I want my dog back!"   
The brown haired man stubbornly refused.   
Laura's anger intensified and was visible on every inch of her body.   
"Damn you, Mark," she started. "If I have to come in there…" She cut herself off   
mid sentence. "Forget it! I am coming in! We are not legally divorced yet, so I   
still have the right to…"   
The woman stopped dead in her tracks, in front of the dog. "NO!" she   
gasped in horror as she saw the litter. "Oh no," she muttered to herself. "I am not   
really seeing this."   
She grabbed the female dog by her collar and pulled harshly. The large   
dog yelped loudly, partly in pain and partly as a warning to her brood.   
Shaggy cringed as he witnessed the woman's cruel actions against the dog.   
"Oh man," he whispered. "Like, I don't even want to see this."  
"I don't believe this," Laura growled in disgust. "You don't get pregnant   
unless I specifically want you to, you understand?" The giant dog cowered at the   
sound of the angry woman's voice.   
"What's more," Laura continued, her voice rising, "I'll tell you who to   
mate with and when!" She snapped a leather leash onto the dog's collar and   
pulled sharply. "Move it dog!" she ordered, angrily.   
The giant Great Dane refused to move. Her anger seething, Laura raised   
the loose end of the leash over her head like a whip and brought it down sharply   
onto the dog's hindquarters. Kala yelped in pain as she felt the leather leash bite   
into her skin.   
Scooby couldn't stand to watch the scene any longer. Uttering a low   
growl, he jumped defensively in front of his mate, barking and snapping at her   
insane owner. "No, Scoob!" Shaggy whispered, loudly, trying unsuccessfully to   
restrain the dog.  
Scooby's sudden appearance caught Laura off guard. Dropping Kala's   
leash, she focused her attention on her assailant. "Get back!" she yelled, swinging   
her foot in front of his chest. "Get back you mangy mutt!"   
As she fought off Scooby's onslaught, her gaze inadvertently fell on one   
of the puppies in the litter; on top of the golden yellow coat were several small,   
irregularly sized, black patches. Laura shifted her gaze from the whelping box   
back to the giant dog that was accosting her. NO! she muttered to herself. It   
can't be!  
Scooby continued to bark, trying to protect his mate; he stopped only   
when the heel of Laura's shoe grazed his chest. With a yelp, he stopped his   
attack, and retreated back to the gang, resigned to his defeat. With Scooby out of   
the way, Laura focused her attention back to Kala. "Get moving!" she yelled,   
aggressively, forcefully tugging the leash.   
Marc Wyndham tried to reason with his ex-wife. "Laura, you can't just   
take her away like that, she's nursing, for God's sake. What you are doing is   
cruel."  
"I don't give a shit if it's cruel or not," retorted Laura. "As far as I am   
concerned, those little rats don't even look like great Danes; they are worthless,   
and I could care less if they die!"   
The four humans listened in horror to the woman's tirade.   
"Worthless?" replied Marc. "Those pups have just as much of a right to   
life as you, me and Kala; and if all you care about is the salability of a litter and   
the presence of a potential champion, then you are even colder and more heartless   
than I had thought!"  
The blonde woman cackled, evilly. "Oh, Marc," she cooed, sarcastically.   
"You're so flattering, but flattery will get you nowhere." The tone in her voice   
changed dramatically, as she continued her tirade. "You're a disgrace to Great   
Dane breeders everywhere, letting a champion dog mate with a mutt like that."   
On that note, she shot her ex-husband a dirty look, then stormed out the door,   
dragging the 120 pound animal behind her.   
Fred, Daphne, Velma and Shaggy watched the scene in disbelief,   
emerging from their hiding place only after they had heard the door slam.   
"Dude," said Shaggy, "like that woman is nuts!"   
"Psychotic," said Fred, shaking his head in disbelief. As stoic as the blond   
man was, even he was shaken by what he had just witnessed.   
Daphne handed Victoria to Velma and quickly moved towards the nesting   
area, as if to replace the absent mother dog. "How can anyone be so heartless?"   
she asked, trying to imagine how it would feel if someone were to forcefully   
separate her from her own daughter. "Those poor, little creatures."   
Marc Wyndham turned and faced the gang. "I'm sorry you kids had to see   
that," he said, apologetically. "It doesn't really concern you."  
Shaggy looked at Marc Wyndham, a bewildered expression on his bearded   
face. "Like, I still don't understand why she's so upset about Scooby mating with   
Kala. He's a perfectly good dog, and he is a purebred Great Dane."   
Marc shook his head and began to explain. "Among breeders, your dog is   
what we would call a 'non-standard color' and a 'pet quality' animal. There is   
nothing wrong with these dogs, except that their external appearance is less than   
perfect. Kala is a champion Great Dane; she is almost perfect as far as the breed   
standard is concerned. These near perfect dogs can only be produced by mating   
the top specimens, and we breeders adhere to a strict code of ethics when mating   
our animals. One part of this code of ethics states that we must never mate a   
champion dog to a pet quality specimen, and we must never breed a non standard   
color dog."   
"Like, I don't think Scooby and Kala really cared about this code thing,"   
said Shaggy.   
Daphne and Velma chuckled in response to his comment.   
"No, but my ex-wife does. And even though Kala is now my dog, Laura   
still has some say in what happens to this litter because she is the co-owner of the   
mother dog."   
Fred looked Marc squarely in the eye. "Then, theoretically, we have a say   
in what happens to these puppies as well, because our dog is the father of this   
litter."   
"Theoretically," said Marc. "But this incident should not concern you.   
Laura is using Kala and this litter as a negotiating pawn in our divorce, and this is   
our business, not yours."  
The blond man shook his head. "On the contrary, it is our business.   
Those pups are just as much ours as they are yours, and we fear for their lives.   
And if your ex-wife had tried to destroy a litter before, I'm almost certain that   
she'll try again."   
"It's plausible," said Velma, "especially since she knows that you have a   
weakness for these dogs."   
Fred turned and faced the others. "Well gang, it looks like we've just been   
handed our next case; and this time, we have more of a stake in the outcome than   
ever before." 


	7. All in the Family

CHAPTER 7: All in the Family

Daphne cradled on of the puppies in the folds of her dress, feeding it some of Victoria's baby formula. 

"They're almost old enough to be weaned," said Marc, "but weaning them is the least of my worries; I'm more concerned about their socialization." 

"Socialization?" asked Shaggy, perplexed. 

"Yes, dogs are social creatures," clarified Velma, "and they learn by emulation. Normally, they would learn from their mother, but, unfortunately, the mother is not here to teach them anything. So unless they have someone to emulate, they will not acquire some of the essential behaviors necessary for survival." 

"We may not have to worry," said Fred, gesturing to Scooby. "Looks like someone else has taken on the role of the mother dog."

The three puppies were clawing and climbing on the older dog, nipping at his ears and tail and trying to engage him in their play. 

"Anyway, kids," continued Marc. "Socialization is very important for the pups at this age. They form their first impressions of humans during this time, and the way they are treated now will affect them for the rest of their lives. When we were still married, Laura would take care of raising the puppies…" He paused, then added, "…and selling them too," a hint of disgust detectable in his tone of voice. "But now that we are separated, since I work full time, I won't be able to socialize them properly." 

"We'd be more than happy to help out," suggested Fred; his suggestion elicited a suspicious glare from his wife. 

"Fred, we have a six month old infant in the house," said Daphne. "We cannot possibly take in four puppies…puppies that will rapidly grow to over fifty pounds each by the time they are five months old." 

The blond man quickly clarified his intentions. "They can stay here with Mr. Wyndham, and we can drop by every so often to check on them during the day."

"I suppose that is better than nothing," conceded Marc, "besides, I trust you kids more than I would trust some pet-sitter." He handed Fred a copy of the apartment key. 

"Like, we ought to name these guys," suggested Shaggy. "We can't just keep calling them 'dog.' Any suggestions?"

"Not 'Scrappy!" Fred, Velma and Daphne answered in unison. 

The little animals continued to accost the adult dog. Scooby glanced wistfully at his human friends; his dark eyes seemed to say, 'I've had enough, help me, please.'


	8. The Ultimate Crime

CHAPTER 8: The Ultimate Crime

Laura Whitney dragged her dog around the side of the house. "I don't care if you are a champion," she sneered, as she fastened a long chain around the dog's neck. "You are getting the ultimate punishment. You are staying out here until I say that I can come back in the house!" 

Kala whined and yelped in protest, lunging at the end of her chain, but her cries fell on deaf ears, and even her enormous strength was not enough to dislodge the chain from its housing. Resigned to her fate, she sighed and lay down on the patch of dead grass in front of her doghouse. 

Laura stormed back into her house, flipping through the phone book and scribbling down some addresses. Picking up her purse and the hastily scribbled notes, she marched out the front door and climbed into her car. _I've got some unfinished business to take care of,_ she muttered to herself as she backed out of her driveway and sped away. 

* * * * * * * * * *

Laura pulled the U-haul moving truck into the loading zone of the apartment complex, ignoring the 'no parking' sign nearby. She unloaded a dolly, some cardboard boxes and furniture covers, then proceeded to the main entrance. Her gait was unsteady as she tried to balance the cargo. Just as she approached the door, the burly superintendent stopped her. "Uh, madame," he queried, curiously, looking up from the paper he had been reading, "May I ask where you are going with those boxes?" 

""Marc Wyndham is my ex-husband," the blond woman replied, curtly. "I'm retrieving some possessions from his apartment." 

The burly man returned to his newspaper. "Okay," he replied, buzzing her in to the building. 

The blonde woman surveyed the tenant listing, locating Marc Wyndham's apartment. She was on a mission, and no one was going to stop her.

* * * * * * * * * * 

Laura jiggled her key in the door's lock, but the lock refused to give. _Dammit! _ She muttered to herself. _That bastard must have known I would come by here, so he changed the lock!_ She continued to fiddle with her keys, jiggling and jerking the doorknob in the process, and turning it until it gave. 

The door creaked open, and Laura could hear the puppies whimpering and whining. She closed the door behind her, and could hear the pups' little claws clicking on the floor as they ran to greet the person at the door. 

__

Worthless little rats, scowled Laura, looking at the three puppies clawing at her legs. _They don't even look like Great Danes_. 

Laura pulled out a burlap bag from one of the cardboard boxes. "I'm not going to hurt you," she sneered, extending her hand to the puppies in a mock friendly gesture. "I'm just going to…transfer you…to another home." She reached out and grabbed a pup by the scruff of its neck. The little Dane yelped in protest as she stuffed it into one of the bags. **This is too easy,** she cackled to herself, as she captured each successive puppy in the same manner. 

Three down, and one to go. She looked around the apartment. **Where is that little creep hiding?** she muttered to herself, scanning every inch of the room within eye shot. "Here puppy, puppy, puppy," she called, making squealing noises with her mouth. "Come on, puppy." She spied the last dog hiding underneath a coffee table, cowering in fright. 

The little dog whined in terror as Laura closed in on his hiding place. He was cornered against the wall, an easy target, except that the table's placement prevented the woman from having a clear path. Kneeling down, she crawled under the table and reached for the pup. "Come here you…OW!" She pulled her hand back, seeing the gouts of blood where the little pup's teeth had pierced her skin. "Damn animal!!" Shaking her hand to dispel the pain, she stepped backwards, tripping over an end table. With a resounding CRASH, the table hit the floor, overturning a potted plant that stood next to it. 

Her temper seething, she yelled, "That does it you little mutt! You asked for it!!" Reaching for a broom that she had brought along, she poked at the animal in its hiding place. She reached for the leather leash that was in one of the boxes. "Get out!" she yelled, swatting at the puppy; forced out of its hiding place, the pup fled and ran straight into Laura's waiting arms. "Gotcha!" she sneered, triumphantly, throwing the dog into one of the burlap bags. 

She placed the bags with their living contraband into the cardboard boxes, muffling the pups' cries with the furniture covers. Laura then re-locked the door behind her, and proceeded to the elevator, comporting herself calmly and coolly, as though she were departing from a routine visit and not from a crime scene.

Exiting the elevator, she passed by the superintendent, who was still reading his newspaper, and called out "thanks." "Uh huh," the burly man grunted in response, then did a double take. Something was horribly wrong with what had just transpired, but he could not figure out quite what it was.

* * * * * * * * * *

**I did it!** she chuckled to herself, as she loaded the puppies into the moving van. **I just committed the ultimate crime and took out the ultimate revenge, and I didn't leave behind a single clue.** Consumed by her gloating, she paid little attention to her driving, nearly broad siding the turquoise and orange van as she pulled away from the curb. 

Both drivers abruptly applied their brakes with a resounding screech. "Why don't you watch where you're going, asshole?" shrieked Laura, shaking her fist at the van's driver, then speeding off. Had she been less consumed with her commission of 'the ultimate crime,' crime, she might have recognized the van's passengers and driver, one of whom was not human.


	9. In Over Our Heads in Another Mystery

CHAPTER 9: "In Over Our Heads in This Mystery"

"Is everyone okay?" asked Fred, still breathing heavily from the scary encounter with the other driver.

"Yeah," breathed Daphne, "no thanks to her."

"Wonder why she was in such a hurry?" wondered Velma.

"Like, beats me," said Shaggy. "But she sure seemed in a big hurry to get away from here."

The four humans and the dog approached the building. "Hi, we're going up to Marc Wyndham's," Fred explained to the superintendent. 

"What's he got going on there, a party?" 

The blond man shrugged. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand, sir."

The burly man leaned back in his chair. "Some woman came here earlier and went up to his place…rather odd, considering that he never really had any visitors…except for you kids."

"Woman?" asked Fred, intrigued. 

"Yeah, some blonde chick who said she was his ex…said she was going there to get some of her things back." The superintendent glanced up at the four kids. "Strange, because when he moved in, I don't recall him ever mentioning his wife or having another woman living with him; all he inquired about when he moved in was a damage deposit for his dog."

"Dog?" asked Fred. His brain was already piecing together the man's story. Suddenly, he snapped to, in horror. The puppies! 

"Come on, gang," he ordered, abruptly. "We gotta go!" He turned back and thanked the burly superintendent. "We'll talk to you later!" Fred yelled back, as he and his friends clamored up the stairs to the fifth floor. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he feared for what they might—or might not—find in the apartment.

* * * * * * * * * * 

"Oh boy, like someone sure is a messy house keeper!" proclaimed Shaggy as he surveyed the mess in the apartment. The potted plant was completely uprooted and its soil scattered everywhere. Shards of broken pottery and glass littered the floor, and a cocktail table stood on its side. 

"You don't suppose the puppies could have done this?" suggested Daphne. 

Velma shook her head. "Uh uh. At six weeks old, they are not yet strong enough to knock over a table, yet alone to stand it on end like that. Speaking of puppies…" Velma's voice trailed off as she slowly began to piece together what might have happened. 

Fred turned and faced the gang. "Uh oh," he intoned, flatly. "Do you see what I don't see?"

Daphne walked ran around the apartment, searching desperately. "Puppies, here pups, where are you?" 

Shaggy shook his head. "Like y'know, there's no sign of them anywhere." 

"Well, they couldn't have just disappeared," countered Daphne, a hint of desperation detectable in her voice. "Here puppies, here pups." The redhead was not ready to give up; her own maternal instinct told her that the puppies were in immanent danger if they weren't found soon. 

"I hate to say it, gang," began Shaggy, "but, like, I think we might have struck out on this one." 

Velma, Daphne and Fred weren't ready to concede defeat just yet. 

"Like, we have hardly anything to go on. All we have is an overturned plant, some dirt, a few footprints…" 

Fred cut him off, abruptly. "Wait a minute," he interjected. "That's a clue right there." He turned and faced his redheaded cohort. "Daphne, what do you make of that footprint?"

Daphne bent over and looked at it. "Well, it comes from a woman's heeled shoe," she began. 

"But, like, how do we know that isn't one of our tracks?" wondered Shaggy. "We sure did a lot of running around looking for those pups." 

"Because, continued Daphne, "look at the style. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something that tacky." 

"Raggy," the Great Dane interrupted. "Rook, rook." The dog was fixated on an area by the door. Shaggy and Velma approached the dog; the bespectacled girl's eyes fell on a piece of crumpled paper lying beside the dog's paw. "Hey wait a minute, what's this?" she asked, picking up the paper. 

"Looks like a rental car contract," said Shaggy. "And get a load of whose name is on the top of it!" 

"Here's something else that's interesting, Shag," commented Velma. "Take a look at the time on that print out." She looked at Daphne and Fred. "I think it's time we asked that superintendent a few questions about this mysterious woman who was here earlier," she suggested. "But first, one of us has got to break the news to Marc."  


* * * * * * * * * *

Kala lay despondently in front of her dog house; a bowl of water and dry dog food sat in front of her, but the female Dane had had no desire to eat. She had no desire to live, either, not without her mate, and certainly not without her puppies. Her ears twitched as she heard the sound of Laura's car enter the driveway. She barked, loudly, hoping to alert her owner to her plight, but Laura paid no attention to the animal's cries. Laura walked around the side of the house to the tool shed, removing a spade, shovel and gardening gloves. _Those little rats have got to go,_ she muttered to herself. _And I'm gonna dump them where no one will ever think of looking for them._

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So, sir, what can you tell us about this woman who claimed to be Marc Wyndham's ex-wife?" asked Fred. 

"It was about 11:30a.m," the burly man recounted. "She had some boxes and furniture 

covers…said she was coming to retrieve some of her property from Marc's apartment. The weird thing is, I had never seen her before today, and I've been managing this complex for five years." 

"And to your best recollection, what did she take with her when she exited the building?" 

"Just those boxes with the furniture covers thrown over them, the weird thing was, she didn't have any furniture with her."

"Why would someone throw a furniture cover over something other than a piece of furniture?" queried Daphne. "That's rather odd."

"You think that's odd," said Velma, sticking her head out from the superintendent's office. "This woman claimed that she was retrieving her property from the apartment; well, according to the lease records, she never lived here!" 

Fred and Daphne exchanged startled glances. 

"And even if she did," continued Velma, "it would have been a pretty tight fit with two adults and a fully grown Great Dane—that apartment is a one bedroom studio." 

Fred looked at the bespectacled girl; her expression suggested that she knew more about the case than she was letting on. Slowly, but surely, the four humans began to realize what had transpired and the extent of it. 

"Velma," asked Daphne, worried. "Are you insinuating that…" 

Velma nodded. "If I'm right, then those puppies are in mortal danger the longer they stay with that woman." 

The skinny man looked puzzled. "Like, I swear I've heard this one before," he said. "Wasn't this the one where the crazed divorcee rips off the puppies to make fur coats out of them?" 

"Get serious, Shaggy!" scolded Velma. "This is not a Disney movie!"

"And Kala is not a Saint Bernard either, countered Fred. "It's time we shift this investigation into high gear," he declared. "Velma, you and shaggy follow up on this rental car invoice; Daphne and I will take Scooby to Laura's house and look around." 

"You got it," said Velma, turning and walking towards a bus stop.

Once in the car, Daphne faced her husband. "You seem less than confident, Freddie," she commented. "What's wrong?" 

The blond man sighed. "If Velma is right, then we may be in over our heads in this mystery."


	10. A Different Kind of Case

CHAPTER 10: A DIFFERENT KIND OF CASE

Laura Whitney sat in her back yard on her hands and knees, surrounded by gardening tools, garbage bags and some scraggly looking plants. She began digging at the ground with a spade, but was hardly able to penetrate the rocky, sun- parched earth. Abandoning the spade, she began attacking the earth with a shovel, this time, managing to break through the surface. From a distant corner of the garden, the despondent female Dane watched her owner. Suddenly, her nose began to twitch; a familiar scent, undetectable to humans, wafted across the yard. And despite not having detected it in a long time, she could still identify its origin. Spurred on by the scent, Kala jumped to her feet and began lunging at her chain, barking wildly. 

The dog's sudden change in behavior caught the blonde woman off guard. "Shut up you stupid dog!!" she yelled, cautiously surveying her surroundings to see what, if anything, had riled the dog. Satisfied that no one was watching her, Laura returned to her gardening, ignoring Kala's erratic behavior. She continued digging and digging, until the hole in the ground was nearly three feet deep and twice as large in diameter. 

"'Afternoon, Ms. Whitney." The sound of the greeting caught Laura off guard; glancing up, she noticed her neighbor watching her from over the fence. The blonde woman ignored her neighbor's attempts at conversation, and continued about her chores. 

"Working in the garden, I see?"

Laura's temper began to seethe. _Damn windbag, why does he always intrude when I'm in the middle of something?_ Hoping to dismiss his small talk attempts, she favored him with a curt reply. "Yes, I am working in the garden. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to my planting."

"''Ts alright," he called, cheerfully. "I was just on my way out, myself, but I thought I'd just say 'hi.'" 

__

Yeah, you said it, already, Laura fumed to herself. _Now leave me alone!_

As her neighbor disappeared back over the fence, Laura continued her gardening. _I've dug the bed_, she muttered to herself. _Now all I need to do is to plant the seeds._

* * * * * * * * * * 

"What did you say the address was?" queried Fred, trying to concentrate on driving while reading street signs at the same time. 

"966 East Hillview Drive," replied Daphne, plotting the route on a map. "Should be somewhere around here." A chilling thought suddenly entered the redhead's mind. "We're running out of time, Fred," she began, her tone of voice reflecting the thought in her mind. "Why don't we ask that guy over there for directions."

The blond man complied and pulled the van up to the curb. "Excuse me, sir," he asked, "we're looking for 966 East Hillview, the Whitney residence, can you point us in the right direction?"

"Back that way," said the man, pointing. "Can't miss the place: You can hear the dogs yapping halfway down the block."

"That must get very annoying," commented Daphne. 

"Yeah, tell me about it; I live next door to her." He paused for a moment as he recalled his conversation with Laura just minutes earlier. "You might want to wait awhile if you're planning to drop in, though; she's really busy gardening…funny, because that yard is so dry and so weed infested that nothing could possibly grow there." The man shrugged. "I never understood that woman anyway. She seems to care more about dogs than about people." Fred thanked the man for his directions and drove off in the direction the man had indicated. 

* * * * * * * * * *

"Boy, that man was right about the yapping," commented Fred as he pulled the Mystery Machine up to the curb in front of Laura's house. 

"Yeah," agreed Daphne. "And look at the front yard—what a mess!" 

The sound of the van's engine reached Laura's ear, and she hastily threw some dirt over the hole before coming around to the front of the house. "What do you kids want?" she snapped, somewhat irritated at the interruption. 

"Uh, we're…looking for our dog," stammered Daphne, "and we were wondering if you had maybe seen him around here." 

"I haven't seen anything," Laura replied, curtly, "and I've been out here all day. Now if you kids don't mind, I'm in the middle of transplanting and I want to finish my job before the plants wither and die in this heat!" She shot Fred a dirty look before turning and walking back around the side to her back yard. 

The same ominous Daphne had had earlier crossed her mind again, this time, with an even more pressing urgency. "Freddie," she began, "Do you not find it rather odd that she was gardening?"

The blond man shrugged. "Not particularly. Lots of people work in their gardens." 

Daphne shook her head. "That's not what I meant," she retorted. "Remember what her neighbor said, how her yard was so 'weed infested and dry that nothing could possibly grow there'? Well, why on earth would she be planting something if nothing could grow there?"

"What are you suggesting, Daph?'

The redhead shrugged, then lowered her head to ward the floor. "Maybe I'm wrong," she began, "but I can't help but think back to what we witnessed that first day at Marc's apartment, the whole thing that got us into this case in the first place. I keep thinking about those horrible comments she made about the puppies, and about how Marc told us that she once destroyed an entire litter, and how he suspected that she might do it again…" Daphne's voice trailed off mid-thought, then she continued. "Maybe it's my mothering instincts, but I have a terrible feeling that that woman wasn't gardening like she claimed she was."

The blond man cocked his head and squinted, trying to follow his wife's logic. "Just what are you getting at, Daph?" he asked, curiously. 

"We've got to do something," the redhead continued, desperately, completely ignoring Fred's request for an explanation. "Those pups' lives are at stake, that woman could be destroying them right now for all we know, and we're just sitting around doing nothing!" 

The blond man favored his wife with a sympathetic look. "I understand your fears, Daph," he said, calmly. "But the fact is, we have no proof. We can't just accuse Ms. Whitney of planning to destroy those puppies based solely on what we heard from her ex-husband and her next-door neighbor."

"But we _have_ proof," objected Daphne. "We found the rental car contract in Marc's apartment, we found Laura's heel prints all over the apartment and the superintendent at the complex corroborated our findings. How can you say that we don't have enough proof to go after her?" 

"We have _clues_," explained Fred. "There's a difference between having proof and having clues." 

Daphne's voice grew even more desperate. "Freddie, in all the years that we have been solving mysteries, all we've ever had were clues, and that was always enough to bring the criminal to justice. How can that not be sufficient this time?" 

"Because this is a different kind of case," sighed Fred. "One with which we have never dealt."

"I don't understand," answered Daphne. 

"Well, in the past, we were dealing with a pre-existing crime. All we had to do was to track down clues, piece them together, then find the perpetrator and bring him to justice. In this case, a crime has not yet been committed, therefore, there is nothing really to 'solve.' We're not trying to solve a crime, Daphne, we're trying to prevent one from being committed, and trying to prove that this person had an intent to commit a crime. Proving someone's intent is much harder to do than simply proving that someone did something." Fred shifted his gaze to the floor. "This is what I meant when I said that we were 'over our heads in this case,'" he sighed. "It's no longer in our hands, Daph; it's up to the authorities now, and we're almost powerless to do anything." 

Daphne's temper began to flare. "I don't believe this, Fred," she began, her voice rising in volume. "Four lives are at stake here, and you want to wait around for proof!" She paused, then looked the blond man straight in the eyes, her eyebrows arching downward toward, the fighting fire visible in her gray-blue eyes. Fred recognized the look, and he could tell that the redhead meant business. 

"If we wait any longer," Daphne continued, "we won't have to prove intent to commit a crime, we'll be proving that a crime was committed! You can wait around for proof if you want to, but I'm going to do something. And I know that Shaggy and Velma would stand behind my decision…if they were here, that is." Daphne kicked the passenger's side door open and climbed out, giving Fred a dirty look in the process.

One look at Daphne's expression, and Fred knew he had lost the battle. He lowered his head in defeat, trying to avoid her vicious gaze. "Forgive me, Daph," he intoned, sheepishly. "I don't know what came over me." 

Daphne faced him, but still refused to get back in the van. "So, do you have any ideas on what to do?" she asked. 

"I have a plan," he answered, "but we'll need Shaggy and Velma to help us." He turned and faced the Great Dane. "Scooby," he ordered, "stay here and keep an eye on Laura until we get back. And if you see anything funny, let us know." 

Scooby sat up on his haunches and saluted Fred with his paw. "Raye aye, r'aptain!"he replied. "Rou can rount on re!" 


	11. A Horrific Discovery, A Timely Rescue

CHAPTER 11: A Horrific Discovery

"R'up roo, ree,r'our; r'up rooo, ree, r'our." The Great Dane paced dutifully back and forth in front of Laura Whitney's property, watching the blonde woman n the first pass, then watching the street for the Mystery Machine's approach on the second pass. 

"R'up roo, ree,r'our; r'up rooo, ree, r'our." Suddenly, he stopped, mid pace. His nose began to twitch as a strangely familiar smell wafted through the air. He cocked his head and sniffed the air. "Rala?" he thought, but this scent was different; strangely similar, but different. Intrigued by the mysterious odor, Scooby began to follow his nose, walking stealthily; he stopped behind the tool shed and posted watch. 

From his hiding place, the giant dog carefully watched Laura's actions. Her gardening lay tools nearby, as did several burlap bags thrown carelessly to the side. A series of tiny whimpers caught Scooby's ear, followed by several, louder whines. Scooby inched closer, his eyes focusing on the bags and their mysterious contents; there was something funny about those burlap bags, and Scooby instinctively knew that whatever was in them was not supposed to be there. 

Unaware that she was being watched, Laura dragged the burlap bags closer to the hole she had just dug. _I'll teach that idiot to allow a champion dog to mate with a mutt!_ she fumed to herself. "I hate to do this," Laura sneered, "but you four rats are a disgrace to the Great Dane breed and to my reputation as a breeder. Believe me, this is for your own good." She paused, then added with an evil cackle, "well, my own good, at least." She emptied the bags' contents into the hole and began covering it with dirt. 

Kala watched the scene, helplessly. Barking wildly, she lunged at her chain, trying to break free to rescue her puppies. Laura glared at her dog. "Say goodbye to these little rats," she sneered, "Because this is the last you will ever see of them!" 

From his hiding place, Scooby watched as the sinister woman mercilessly tortured his mate. Uttering a low growl and bearing his teeth, he readied for an attack. Yet, in spite of what his instincts told him, he knew that he could not execute a rescue without the aid of his human friends. He barked, loudly, as if to alert Kala and the puppies that help would arrive. 

"What the hell…" muttered Laura, as the sound of Scooby's barking reached her ear. Scooby quickly stopped his alert, and ducked behind the tool shed, standing on his hind legs so that he would take up less space. 

Laura walked around the side near the shed. "I could've sworn I heard a dog." 

Scooby flattened himself against the back of the shed, holding his breath as Laura neared his hiding place. 

__

Huh, _must have been my imagination_, she muttered to herself, as she turned and walked back to her job in the garden. 

Seeing her departure, Scooby let out his breath. "Whew!" he breathed, wiping his brow with a paw. Satisfied that Laura was gone, Scooby made a mad dash back to the street and resumed his barking from the safety of the sidewalk. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The Great Dane was jumping up and down, barking and gesticulating wildly as the Mystery Machine pulled up to the curb. "Hey, like, what's with Scoob?" asked Shaggy, noticing his dog's odd behavior.

"He looks like he's trying to tell us something" suggested Velma. 

"Yeah, but, like, what?" 

Scooby continued to bark and gesture, trying to talk at the same time. 

Daphne stepped out and knelt beside the dog, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Scooby, calm down," she whispered, softly. "Now, why don't you tell us what's wrong?"

"Rala," he yelped, desperately. "Relp. Ruppies…rone!"

A look of exasperation came over the redhead's face. "Gone?" she asked, in disbelief. "What do you mean they are gone?!" 

The Great Dane engaged in a bizarre game of charades with his human friends, trying to describe what he had witnessed. "Raura..r'hole…rigging," he explained, desperately. 

"Hole? Digging?" Daphne pieced together the dog's description with her thoughts from earlier in the day. "Oh my God," she gasped, "then I was right!" 

Velma and Shaggy looked at the redhead, perplexed. "Right about what?" queried the bespectacled girl, "Daphne, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later, right now, we've got to save those puppies!"

Fred reached out and grabbed the redhead by the collar of her dress. "Whoah, whoah, whoah, slow down, Daph," he said. "We can't just barge onto Laura's property like this; we have to wait until she's not watching or until she's not there." 

"That could take hours!" objected Daphne, trying to squirm free of the blond man's grip. "We don't have that kind of time!" 

"I know, Daphne, but we can't just show up unannounced; that's breaking and entering."

"I don't care, Fred," she countered, intensifying her efforts to break free. "Let me go!"

"Like, we may not have to worry about breaking and entering, Daph," said Shaggy, watching from the passenger's side of the van. "Check it out."

The gang pressed their faces to the window, watching, as Laura Whitney climbed into the cab of the rental truck and backed it out of her driveway. 

"Okay, gang," said Fred. "Here's the plan; we have to work quickly, because we don't have much time. Shaggy, you, Velma and Scooby check out that hole in the middle of the yard; Daphne and I will free Kala." 

The blond man kept his eye on the street, waiting until the truck had turned the corner and was out of sight. "Alright," he ordered, motioning with his hand. "Let's go." 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Kala lay in front of her doghouse, her large head resting on her front paws. She whined softly as Fred and Daphne approached her. Daphne extended her hand in a friendly gesture. "It's okay, Kala," she whispered, calmly. "We're not going to hurt you, we're here to help you." 

The female Dane whimpered softly as Daphne ran her hands gently over the dog's chest. "Freddie," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "Look at this poor thing; she's so thin you can see her ribs!"

"What a way to treat a so-called 'two time national champion,'" Fred scoffed in disgust. He bent over and unhooked the chain from Kala's collar. "There you go, girl," said the blond man, "you're free now." 

The female Great Dane wasted no time in running to meet her mate. "Rala!" Scooby barked, nuzzling the giant, golden yellow dog. 

Kala whimpered in response, pawing at the ground. Acting on the message that only he could understand, Scooby began digging furiously, his blunt claws easily tearing through the sun-parched earth. Suddenly, his nose began to twitch; that same, strange scent he had detected earlier that day was even more prominent than before. Spurred on by the scent, he stepped up his digging efforts, accompanied by Kala. 

Then, he heard it, a faint whimper coming from under the dirt. 

The four humans stepped back from the hole, gaping in horror at the sight before them. Even the normally stoic blond leader was visibly shaken by what he saw. 

"Oh God!" gasped Daphne, putting her hands over her mouth in

shock. "No!" 

Scooby wasted no time in initiating a rescue, leaning over the side of the hole and retrieving the puppies from what minutes earlier had been their grave. They were covered in dirt and grass, shaking in fear, but otherwise unhurt. 

"Zoinks," cried Shaggy, "like, this is utterly gruesome, man."

"Those poor, innocent creatures," commented Daphne, shaking her head in disbelief. "How could anyone be so heartless?" She threw her arms around Fred and hugged him, burying her face in his sweater and crying, softly. The blond man gently escorted her aside, holding her in a reassuring embrace. 

"Like that woman ought to have her head examined," said Shaggy, scooping up one of the pups and gently brushing off the dirt. 

"I think we ought to have these guys examined too," said Velma. "But first, I think we should notify the authorities to tell them what we found." 


	12. Let's Get Out of Here, Gang!

CHAPTER 12: "Let's Get Out of Here, Gang!"

Free from their prison and their would-have-been grave, the four pups whimpered and yipped, climbing on and clawing at their human rescuers while their grateful mother looked on. Velma finished brushing the last of the burrs from the pup's coat; the little puppy licked her face in thanks. "Hey!" she giggled. "No fair! You're licking my glasses!" The appreciative mother dog licked each human gently on the cheek as if to say 'thank you for saving my babies.'

Daphne scratched Kala gently behind her ears. "It's all over now," she said, softly. "No one will separate you from your babies now." Kala whined softly in response. 

"Like, I guess that wraps up this case," commented Shaggy, but his cohorts believed otherwise. 

"I'm afraid not, gang," said Fred, shaking his head slowly. "As I had mentioned earlier, this was a different kind of case; there are still a lot of loose ends to be wound up."

Shaggy furrowed his brow, quizzically. "Like..?"

"First, we need to prove definitively that Laura was going to harm these puppies; second, we need to prove that she was using the dog as a pawn in her divorce; and third…"

A sudden whine cut the blond man's explanation mid-sentence. The female Dane had tucked her tail between her legs and was backing away, nervously. "Kala?" Fred asked, troubled by the dog's sudden change in behavior. "What's wrong?"

At the sound of the man's voice, Kala turned and ran away, hiding behind a dead bush and whining fearfully; the bush's dry branches shook with her terrified movements. 

"Like, what's with her?" Shaggy asked, noting that his own, normally cowardly dog was still seated, firm and stoic as ever. 

Velma took note of Shaggy's comment as she watched Kala trembling in fear. "I think Kala knows something that we don't," the bespectacled girl surmised. "And judging from her behavior, it can't be anything good."

Hearing Velma's words, Scooby trotted over and sat down in front of the dead bush. "Hey, like what's with you, Scoob?" Shaggy asked, noting his dog's uncharacteristic bravery. 

"R'im rotecting Rala," the dog explained.

"He's protecting Kala," Shaggy chuckled. "Boy, you must really be in love." 

The skinny man's thought was cut off by Fred's sudden order to be quiet. "Shhhh!" Gesturing to the driveway, he directed everyone's attention to the front of the house. 

"Zoinks!" gasped Shaggy, recognizing the blonde, high-heeled woman emerging from the car. "Like, Cruella's evil twin is back.'

"No time to lose," ordered Fred. "Gather the puppies and duck out of sight."

Shaggy and Daphne ducked behind the tool shed, followed by Scooby; Fred and Velma took refuge behind a garbage can.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Laura Whitney walked methodically through her back yard, double checking the crime scene, and making sure that she had covered her tracks. As she passed the doghouse, her eyes fell upon the chain link leash lying on the ground and the absence of the dog who had been attached to it. _What the hell…_she thought to herself. She picked up the chain; no links were broken, but somehow, the dog had escaped. _Dumb dog couldn't have freed herself,_ Laura muttered. "Anybody here?" she called, walking cautiously around the yard. 

From opposite sides of the yard, the four humans and five dogs watched Laura's actions. Daphne, Shaggy ad Scooby took a step backwards as Laura passed their hiding place. 

_YARF!_ The shrill sound caught Daphne by surprise; looking down at her feet, she realized that she had just made a very careless mistake, inadvertently stepping on a puppy as she backed up. 

"Ranger rone Raphne," Scooby muttered in disgust; the redhead shot him a dirty look. 

Laura turned a rushed back to the location of the sound. 

"Uh oh," Shaggy groaned under his breath, "like I think we've been spotted!" 

Daphne looked at her two cohorts. "Look, I realize this was my fault, but I have an idea."

Shaggy and Scooby looked at her incredulously. "Daphne? Has an idea?" they both remarked in surprise.

"Look, this is no time to be silly," she snapped back. "Just listen to me. "Scooby—you create a distraction while Shaggy and I take the pups and meet up with Fred and Velma on the other side of the yard." 

The giant dog looked at the redheaded woman. "Re?" he asked in disbelief. He shook his head. ""Ruh Uh. Ro way."

Daphne sighed. Time was running short. "Look, I don't have any Scooby Snacks on me right now, but will you settle for an IOU?"

The giant dog thought it over. "Ruh uh. Ro way." He stated, resolutely.

A series of tiny whimpers came from beside Daphne's feet. Scooby looked down at the source and sighed; for the first time in his life, he had been won over by something other than food. "Rokay," he barked. "R'I'll roo rit!" 

Laura picked up a rake as she approached the tool shed, ready to defend herself against any intruder. "Who ever's back there," she yelled, "I'm giving you until the count of three to show yourself." Laura began counting. "One…Two…Two-and-a-half…"

On the third count, a huge, brown form shot out from behind the tool shed; the force of its onslaught knocked Laura off her feet. "What the hell!" she screamed, partly in anger, partly in shock. Scooby had pinned her to the ground; he stood on top of his prey, growling and baring his teeth.

Shaggy and Daphne had managed to meet up with Fred and Velma on the opposite side of the yard. "Let's go gang!" yelled Fred, scooping up the puppies and heading for the safety of the street. 

"That wasn't exactly the most brilliant plan, Daph," admonished Velma, panting, as she burst through the front gate onto the sidewalk. 

"Maybe not," countered Daphne, following on the younger girl's heels, and climbing into the van, "but it worked." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Get off me you mangy mutt!" Laura yelled, flailing her legs and struggling against the giant dog. "I swear…I'll teach you to…" Rocking back on her haunches, she vaulted forward, kicking Scooby just under his muzzle. 

"YOWWR!" Scooby yelped, the pain causing him to momentarily retreat. Expecting Laura to retaliate, he waited, his head lowered, ready to mount a second attack. 

But the woman didn't second advance. Pulling herself up from the ground, and brushing the dead grass from her clothes, she made a mad dash towards the driveway. Kala and Scooby tailed her closely, barking and nipping at her heels like two sheepdogs trying to corral a maverick ram. Reaching the side gate, Laura unlatched it and squeezed through it, slamming it in the dogs' faces. "Hah! Beat you!" she sneered, victoriously from the opposite side of the gate where she lingered for a few moments, taunting the two giant dogs. Once she had had her fill of teasing, she turned and sneered at Scooby. "I'll deal with you mutts later. Right now, I've got some meddling humans to care of!"

Jumping into her car, Laura cranked the ignition key, rousing the car's diesel engine from its sleep. With a squeal of tires, she backed out of her driveway, shifted gears, and then turned down the street in hot pursuit of the van.


	13. High Speed Chase

CHAPTER 13: High Speed Pursuit

From their prison behind the gate, the two dogs watched the car take off in pursuit. Kala barked loudly, rearing on her hind legs and jumping, as if attempting to clear to top of the fence. The exertion, however, proved too much on her delicate, show-dog frame, and she quickly tired. Lying down in defeat at the foot of the gate, she whined in Scooby's direction, as if imploring him to help. 

Scooby stood on his hind legs and easily lifted the latch to open the gate; it swung open, instantly. "Rollow re," he instructed, walking through the gate and emerging on the street; Kala followed, not yet certain of the other dog's intent. Putting his canine "super sniffer" to work, Scooby soon picked up the trail of the van and the car. "Ret's rave rose ruppies," he ordered. Kala barked in agreement. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Laura's BMW made a wide turn around a corner, narrowly missing a pedestrian. She wove in and out of the lanes, tailgating the turquoise and orange van. 

The van's driver focused his attention intently on the road ahead, his hands locked firmly on the steering wheel to maintain control of the vehicle. And although the van's driver had found himself in chase situations many times in the past, it was the first time he wasn't trying to outrun his pursuant; he was trying to lead it into a trap. In the back of the van, his three passengers bounced around like the numbered balls in a bingo machine; the seatbelts did little to restrain them against the abrupt movements and sudden turns of the vehicle. 

"So, like, what are we going to do now, Fred?" asked Shaggy. 

Fred made an abrupt right turn, just as the light changed from yellow to red. "First of all," he began, never shifting his gaze from the road ahead, "we should notify the police. Second of all, we should call Marc and update him on the situation." 

"Why can't we just take the puppies back to Marc's place?" queried Daphne, as she slid to the left side, squishing Velma. 

"No, Daphne," replied Velma, "that's exactly what Laura expects us to do; and if we do that, then we're right back to where we were ten minutes ago. Those puppies would be no safer there than they were back at Laura's garden."

"What about the SPCA?"

"They're still a little young," countered Velma. "I think they'd do better if they stay with us."

The van swerved and ran through another red light.

"Besides, these little guys are somewhat fearful of humans after what they've been through; no sense exposing them to strangers more so than they need be." 

Fred continued driving, his eyes staring intently ahead. He glanced briefly up at his rear-view mirror to see the damage caused by running that last traffic signal. Laura was still trailing the van, but a five-car pile-up had ensued at the intersection. 

* * * * * * * * * *

Scooby and Kala walked intently along the city streets, following the path of the two vehicles. Reaching the intersection where the accident had occurred, he surveyed the territory. The scent of radiator fluid, oil and antifreeze had obscured the scent of his original quarry. Gradually, Scooby began to realize that he could no longer track his friends without human intervention. Retracing his steps, he turned and walked in the opposite direction; Kala stood poised at the corner, unsure of what to do next. "Ris ray," Scooby barked. "Rack ris ray."

* * * * * * * * * * ** * * * 

Scooby's followed a preselected course, passing directly in front of the steps to the police station. "Hey, isn't that Scooby-Doo?" commented an off duty officer, just climbing out of his car. 

"Yeah," his partner replied, recognizing the dog. "Seems he's got his girl friend with him, too." 

"Wonder what he's doing off the leash like that, and without those kids, too."

"Beats me." 

The squad car's radio crackled to life. _All units in the vicinity of highway 80 eastbound, report for a potential suspect pursuit. Two vehicles involved, a late model BMW and a 1968 Volkswagen Traveler van, the car appears to be pursuing the van…_

"Well, back to work we go," the man commented to his partner.

The other man hesitated for a moment. "Now wait a minute, did the description of the second vehicle sound familiar by any chance?" 

The older, skinnier officer shrugged. "Nah, there's got to be a million aging hippies driving run down vans like that."

"A high speed chase, a Volkswagen van, and this dog just happens to show up on our doorstep. It can't be a coincidence, Mike. I think there's more to it than that." The younger man looked at Scooby, gesticulating and barking wildly. "I think he recognizes his own car's description."

The older man sighed in disbelief. "Oh, come on, Pete, you can't tell me you think that that dog understood the radio transmission; he's a DOG, for crying out loud."

"Whether he did or not doesn't matter; we ought to take him with us, it's the least we can do. Those kids are probably worried sick over him." The younger man signaled to the two Danes. "Get in boy. You too, girl." He turned to his partner. "Alright, now let's answer that call." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The van turned off the highway and headed toward the waterfront. "I have plan," the blond man announced, as he swerved into the neighboring lane on the off ramp. 

"Good time for one," commented Velma, only half seriously, as she slammed into Daphne.

"See that area up ahead?" he asked, pointing through the windshield, "that's the cargo loading area. See those containers? We can use them to set up a trap."

"Trap?" cried Velma, exasperated. "Freddie, we are NOT getting out of this car to go set up one of your crazy traps that will probably backfire anyhow. Can't you think of something better?"

"We don't have to get out of the car," Fred countered, "all I want to do is use those containers as a speed block. If we continue to lead Laura towards them, then turn around at the last minute, she won't be able to correct fast enough, she'll crash into the containers, and we'll have her."

"I've got news for you, Fred," the bespectacled girl said, a note of disquietude creeping into her voice, "we're moving at sixty miles per hour. That velocity, combined with the mass of this vehicle plus the wet surface of the docks makes such a maneuver next to impossible. If I were you, I'd abandon that idea entirely and come up with something else."

"Like, we don't have time for anything else," yelled Shaggy. "Psycho dog show woman is right on our tail and we're about to run out of road."

"We don't have a choice," Fred spoke, flatly. "I'm going to do it, and I hope everyone is buckled in!" Daphne, Velma and Shaggy gripped the pps protectively. The blond man's heart pounded as he though about what the maneuver entailed. The last time he had performed such an act, he had landed the van in a pile of freshly caught fish; and although no one had been hurt, he, Shaggy, Velma and Daphne had been forcefully ejected from the vehicle. 

Carefully calculating the distance in front of him, he began counting off the seconds. Ten…nine…eight…seven…

Laura Whitney was close on his tail. 

Six…five…four…

The cargo containers grew ever closer, their towering loading cranes looming high overhead. 

Three…two…one. The blond man turned the steering wheel sharply to the left, sending the van spinning in an abrupt U-turn. Daphne, Velma and Shaggy bounced around in the back. 

Unable to compensate quickly enough, Laura lost control of her car, and, as the blond man had envisioned, crashed head on into the cargo containers. The Mystery Machine skidded to a stop about 100 yards away, its four passengers breathing heavily in relief. Fred Jones heaved a huge sigh of relief, as he slid down in the driver's seat, completely unwound. 

"Great plan, Freddie," breathed Velma, wiping her brow in relief. "How'd you know it would work?"

"I didn't," he replied, under his breath, "but I figured, I had done it once before, so I already had the practice."

The others sighed in disbelief, but it was a sigh tinged with laughter. Daphne rolled her eyes at her husband. "Oh, brother," she intoned, stifling a laugh. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


	14. Justice at Last

CHAPTER 14: Justice at Last

The squeal of tires and the screech of police sirens roused the gang from their reverie; Laura Whitney had yet to emerge from her wrecked car, but the police had already surrounded it. A voice on a bull horn blared, "Come out of your vehicle with your hands behind your head." 

"Well, Mystery Inc. does it again," Daphne announced, proudly. "And we did it, even though we had no experience in this type of case." The redhead shot her husband a playful glare, then jabbed him in the ribs. The blond man responded by scooping his wife in his arms and kissing her on the lips. 

"Well, I guess that wraps up another mystery," commented Velma. Turning to watch the scene unfolding in front of her, her eyes fell upon the lanky figure leaning against the van. He seemed detached from the joyous excitement, almost sulky. "Gang," Velma asked, taking note of the figure, "did anyone notice that we are one member short?" 

Fred and Daphne turned around as they came to the same horrid conclusion as their cohort. "Scooby!" 

The huge dog was nowhere in sight, and neither was his mate. 

"Shaggy," Velma began, concerned, though she didn't quite know what to say next. 

"No, like, it's alright," the skinny man replied, monotonously, not facing the younger girl; she could hear his voice quavering, and she knew that he was about to cry. 

"Shag?" she asked again, advancing. 

The blond man put his hand on her shoulders. "Leave him, Vel," he advised, softly, as the three of them watched from a distance. 

A lone police siren broke the silence and roused the skinny man from his reverie. "I believe these two dogs are yours," the younger officer announced, opening the door to the squad car. "Saw them running on the street and recognized Scooby. We figured they were following you, so we picked them up." 

The skinny man snapped to attention immediately. "Scooby-Doo!' he screeched, joyfully; the huge dog bounded forward, knocking his owner over and smothering hi m with licks on the face. 

Marc Wyndham's car pulled up to the scene a few moments later. "Kala!" he cried, equally joyous. "Thank goodness you're safe." The fawn Dane licked her owner's hands in graciousness. 

Pete, the younger officer, faced Fred, Velma and Daphne. "Good job, kids," he praised. "You kept this situation from getting a lot worse." He whipped out a set of handcuffs, fastening them to Laura's wrists as she emerged from her wrecked car. "Ms. Whitney, you are under arrest for cruelty to animals; you have the right to remain silent."

Laura Whitney was anything but silent. "Goddamm meddling kids!" she screamed. "You should have minded your own business!!"

"Actually, this was our business," Fred replied, calmly. "Those were our puppies just as much as yours, and we feared for their safety. I would have reacted in the same way if someone had taken my child. 

Daphne beamed at the comment. "You were wonderful, Fred," she praised, kissing him on the cheek. The blond man blushed at the comment, and gave Daphne another long kiss on the lips. 

Velma stood beside Shaggy and smiled. "Well, I guess I can say definitively that this wraps up another mystery."

Everyone laughed in agreement. 


	15. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Several weeks later, Shaggy, Velma and Scooby had gathered at Fred and Daphne's house to discuss the case. Scooby's ears perked at the sound of approaching footsteps, and he promptly barked an alert. "I'll get it," said Daphne, getting up from the living room sofa; she patted Scooby on the head, thanking him for his warning. "Mr. Wyndham," she said, announcing the identity of the visitor, "and Kala. Please, do come in." 

"Thanks, "said Marc, leading the female Dane inside the house. "I want to thank you guys for all of your help," he began.

"Hey, it was no problem," Fred answered. 

Daphne jabbed him in the ribs and shot him a sly grin. _Yeah, right. Who was so hesitant to take this case in the first place?_

"So, whatever happened to her?" the blond man continued, curiously.

"Well, she was arraigned on all five counts of animal cruelty and sentenced to two years in prison, the maximum allowable by law. She also got a three-year sentence for animal torture, and, on top of that, eighteen months for breaking and entering and possession of stolen property. The judge finalized our divorce that same day, so, she won't be bothering anyone for awhile, least of all, me and my dog." He paused for a moment to pat Scooby on the head. "So, how are the puppies?"

"Oh, like, they're fine," chimed Shaggy. "I contacted Scoob's breeder and she was able to find nice homes for all of them." 

"That is great," Marc commented. "That's what a responsible breeder should do." Kala barked, as if agreeing with her owner's statement. 

Fred leaned over and patted Kala on the head. "All finished with the show ring, I suppose."

Marc nodded. "Yeah, and for good, too. I never cared too much for showing dogs anyhow; I've decided to devote all of my energies to the Great Dane rescue program." He paused and looked at Shaggy. "Oh, by the way, Kala has something for Scooby."

Upon hearing his name, Scooby inched forward and sat down in front of Kala; she held a large, blue rosette ribbon in her mouth. "Kala, give," Marc ordered; the Dane promptly dropped the ribbon at Scooby's feet.

Velma examined the ribbon. "Jinkies!" she exclaimed. "A first place ribbon from the Westminster Kennel Club Show! Now _that's_ an award."

Shaggy laughed as he pinned the ribbon onto Scooby's collar. "Like, as far as we're concerned, Scoob will always be the top dog, no matter what the AKC thinks."

Kala gave Scooby a quick lick on the muzzle. "Scooby-Dooby-Doo!" he howled, as the five humans stood back and laughed. 

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story as I posted the updates. I appreciate your immense patience, especially during the long wait between chapter 11 and chapter 12. L.O.L.

Mlle. Dinkley 


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